Drowning
by Suya
Summary: As Kohaku finds himself drowning under the weight of his past, he remembers how much easier life had been as Haku. Some ChihiroHaku. Angst.


**Drowning.**

It's strange how different the world looks, when seen through eyes that were once your own. The bathhouse isn't quite so exciting and vibrant when not shrouded by mystery and forgotten hopes, the politics and power plays certainly seem meaningless. Haku had merely been a puppet who occasionally tugged in the opposite direction of where his strings where directing him, during his time there. 

Still. There is something about letting someone else be in charge of the strings that had a hidden promise of freedom. How ironic that it is only now that the strings have been cut that he feels so totally trapped. 

Yubaba had not been expecting him when he visited earlier, Kohaku could tell. They had hardly ever been close when he didn't know any better as Haku, certainly he would not go to her for assistance as the brave and all knowing Kohaku. Part of him believes she was scared that he was there to punish her for her crimes against Chihiro and so many others, a twisted cross between an angel and a bitter dragon. 

He hadn't been there to punish her. He had been there to ask for help. 

Glazed eyes look blankly over the stretch of water, not focussing on the mortal world on the other-side, but the way the sunlight seemed to make the water shimmer a thousand different hues of blue. Each ripple on the calm surface is almost painful, the longing deep in his heart certainly is. 

_"You want me to what?" Yubaba looked at him as though he'd finally gone crazy. "Why in the world would you want me to take back your name, Kohaku? I know how important you consider the silly thing."_

He wonders for the first time if spirits live in the stretch of ocean between the two realms. Perhaps mortal animals live there, playfully swimming on the surface just out of his eyesight, or hiding in the depths closer to grey than green. This water is so familiar, so much like home that he aches uncontrollably, wishing that the beautiful blue would welcome him. 

But this is not his river, and he has no domain here. For everything that is familiar, there is something foreign. 

He is foreign. 

_"I prefer to be simply Haku," he replied calmly. "I prefer Haku's memories to my own." _

"But Haku doesn't have any memories," Yubaba commented, confusion more than evident in her voice. 

"Exactly." 

The memories attack him then. Hated humans reshaping his shores, flickers of ash slowly sinking down through clear crystal. Spirit fish struggling against death, desperate pleas in their eyes for him to save them – to protect them, as was his duty. River plants crying in pained agony as they're lives were cut off so abruptly by human hands or callous feet, tears of grain and sand shed by those who could only watch. 

And then, drowning. Drowning in air and wind, no longer just a helpless an ineffective protector, but a victim now as well. Ever since he regained his name the sensation has haunted him frequently, but it is in his memories that they are the most terrifying. 

He failed to save them. He failed to save himself. 

He still does not know how he ended up at the Bath House, his last thoughts as Kohaku being struggling violently on the empty bed of his river, begging for death to take him quickly. He had already seen those he was supposed to guard die often long, horrid deaths. 

But then, that was perhaps the fate that he most deserved for his spectacular failure. 

Perhaps he had died after all, he thought, closing his eyes. And this was his hell, his eternal punishment. To never now be able to forget, to never be able to return. To know what it was like to be guilt-free and innocent, only to crash under the weight of his true history. 

_"I do not want to be Kohaku, Yubaba. I do not like the person he is." Kohaku's words obviously surprised the Bath House owner. "I do not want his memories any longer. They are dark and stained with grief. They are so violent and filled with death and failure …" Kohaku shuddered. "You took away my name once. I am simply asking that you do it again." _

"Kohaku, did you ever wonder why Chihiro kept her memories of her past, even when I gave her a new name?" Kohaku remained silent. "Or why everyone else here remembers everything that happened before they came here, as well." For a moment, she wondered if Kohaku was still breathing. "I never took your name away from you, Kohaku, nor did I ever steal your memories. You did that yourself." 

Suddenly, he hates this place. The ocean before him is no longer peaceful but vindictive, taunting him with something he cannot have. The feeling of rejection is absolute. 

Everything had been so simple, once. 

Even now, he doesn't want to believe Yubaba words, although he cannot find a competent way to refute them. If he is the one who created Haku, locking Kohaku away in the process, then why can't he simply will himself back to being the innocent, mainly obedient boy he was before? 

But even though Yubaba had not been responsible for his spell as Haku, she at least had promised to search down the spell that would return him to such a state, if he so wished. Kohaku would be gone once again, and he will finally be able to breathe without drowning, to sleep without screaming. 

To live without love. 

Chihiro will go back to being merely a friend, if he chooses to forget. Love is the one thing that Kohaku has that Haku doesn't, and it is the only aspect of his new life that makes him consider, just for a moment, if becoming Haku again is really worth it. 

But only for a moment. He is not a silly child caught up with improbable romantic dreams anymore, and the pain of his past runs deeper than his love of the present. 

"I'm sorry, Chihiro. I'm sorry for making a promise to you that I can't keep. I can't." He whispers the words to the wind, hoping that somehow she will understand his abandonment of her. 

She is far stronger than he will ever be, but at least he can admit to his weaknesses. 

He has so many of them. 

He lets his eyes drift back to the ocean just briefly, ignoring the way his heart cries out bitterly as a result. As he turns on his heels, away from brilliant blue, away from the wonderful girl who lives on the other side, he says a silent good-bye that seems to beg for forgiveness at the same time. 

And then, he smiles. 


End file.
